Holiday Dribbles and Drabbles
by Gmariam
Summary: A collection of short stories, each based on a simple prompt while centering around winter and the holidays at Torchwood. Warnings for fluff, snark, an occasional bit of depth, and quite a bit of Jack and Ianto.
1. Hot Chocolate

Hot Chocolate (Series 1)

"You look like you could use this." Jack held out a steaming green mug covered in a hideous holly and ivy print. Ianto raised a curious eyebrow as he glanced up and took the offered drink.

"Where in the world did you find this?" he asked, warming his hands on the hot mug.

"I made it myself, actually," said Jack, sitting down with his own mug, an unsightly combination of mixed plaids, candy canes, and wreaths.

"You made it?" asked Ianto, holding up the mug with a decidedly dubious look.

Jack frowned. "What's wrong? Too hot? Too cold? Too much?"

"I was talking about the mug, Jack," Ianto replied dryly. "It's appalling."

"It's a mug," said Jack, rolling his eyes. "It holds liquid. It's not like the taste of the drink is directly proportional to the appearance of the cup it's in. Einstein proved it."

"He did no such thing." Ianto raised another skeptical eyebrow before taking a sip. He closed his eyes and smiled. "But I've been proved wrong. This is delicious."

"Thank you," said Jack, leaning back and sipping contentedly at his own. "I can't make coffee worth a damn, but I can do hot chocolate like few others."

"You certainly can," Ianto murmured. "It's perfect." They sat side by side on the sofa in silence, enjoying a rare moment of companionship unmarred by Rift alerts, Weevils, or squabbling coworkers.

Ianto was the first to set his empty mug down. "What did you add to it?" he asked, leaning back again, though slightly closer to Jack this time.

"What do you mean?"

"It has a kick," said Ianto. "A nice one." He folded his hands over his stomach and let his head fall back. "What did you add?"

"I used whole milk, chocolate, sugar, vanilla, a shot of coffee, and a pinch of cinnamon." Jack took a long drink and pretended to moan. "Not bad if I do say so myself."

"And what else?" pressed Ianto.

"Chocolate liquor," Jack replied with a wink. "Makes it extra chocolaty."

"Is that even a word?" asked Ianto, a relaxed smile on his face.

"Of course it is." Jack finished his drink, set it down, and leaned back next to Ianto, turning his head so that they were almost nose-to-nose. "And I'll tell you a secret. It was dark chocolate, too."

"Oh really?" asked Ianto. "Didn't know we had any of that."

"Good for your serotonin levels," Jack replied with a wink. Ianto groaned in response and turned away.

"Why do you bring that up every time we have chocolate?" he said. "No one likes having bad pick up lines tossed back in their face."

"So it was a pick up line!" crowed Jack. "I knew it!"

"It was for the dinosaur," murmured Ianto, though he was smiling. "And it was terrible."

"I don't know," said Jack, grinning as he bumped shoulders with Ianto. "I think you have some good lines."

Ianto let his eyes slip closed and shook his head. "Not really."

"Oh, come on," Jack teased. "There was the one about my coat, the one about catching the pterodactyl together, and my favorite—the one about the stopwatch."

Ianto's eyes flew open. "That was the worst one of all, Jack. I still can't believe I said that."

Jack patted his knee in mock understanding. "I know, but it had been a long day."

"And I can't believe you took me up on it." Ianto paused with a smirk. "After I explained it, of course."

Jack laughed. "Why wouldn't I have taken you up on it?"

Ianto remained silent, letting his eyes slip shut again, ruminations of a more serious nature obviously over for the moment.

"Do you want some more?" Jack asked, motioning at their empty mugs.

Ianto opened his eyes, gazed at Jack with a tired, bleary look, and then nodded before closing them again. "Thank you. And maybe a few biscuits, too."

Jack laughed as he stood and gathered their mugs. "Would you like me to cook dinner for you, too, dear?"

"I'd love it," Ianto replied, obviously without thinking. His eyes flew open. "I mean, I am a bit hungry, but I didn't mean that you…that we…" He stuttered to a stop, frowning. "Never mind. Just some biscuits, please."

"Biscuits and hot chocolate, coming up," said Jack. He disappeared for a few minutes and appeared with two new mugs and a plate of cookies. Ianto struggled to sit up, exhaustion obvious in his slow movements and the deep lines of his face.

"Jack, these mugs are even more hideous than the others," he pointed out, frowning at a rather inebriated Father Christmas dancing around a fireplace in green and red pants. "Where did you find them?"

Jack winked. "I hid them weeks ago. I didn't want you to get rid of them."

"Seriously?" asked Ianto. "We have a collection of ghastly Christmas mugs and you actually hid them from me so I wouldn't toss them in the rubbish bin?"

"Would you?" countered Jack.

"Of course I would," said Ianto. "They're scandalous. We are representatives of the Queen, after all." He took a deep sip of the dark liquid. "Oh, but that's even better. What did you put in this time?"

"Bit more chocolate liquor with a hint of peppermint schnapps."

"I didn't realize we had a fully stocked liquor cabinet as well as a collection of hideous holiday kitsch."

Jack shrugged. "We do now. I picked it up last week. It's festive, plus it's good for times like this—hot chocolate with a kick."

"Be good in coffee, too," Ianto murmured. "Not first thing in the morning, perhaps, but the afternoon maybe."

"Or after a late night search for alien tech in the cold rain?" suggested Jack, to which Ianto nodded.

"That too. So what was that thing we dug out of the bushes?"

"No idea," said Jack. "We'll let Tosh have a go tomorrow. Give her something to do since she hasn't had anything new come by her desk in almost a week. I think she's getting twitchy. The Rift has been quiet."

"That's because it's getting ready," Ianto murmured.

"For what?" asked Jack. He sipped at his mug, grinning at the image of nine reindeer doing a kick line.

"For something big," said Ianto. Jack raised an eyebrow. "You know I'm right. You've been here far longer than I have, and I can already sense the Rift acts in cycles."

Jack nodded, impressed at the man's acute perception of both Jack's past and the Rift's quirks. "You are right, I'll admit. That's been the pattern for several years now. So yes, I suspect something big as well."

"Hopefully not on Christmas," said Ianto. "London can deal with it." He polished off the last of his mug and set it down with a thump. Jack noticed a slightly pink tint to Ianto's cheeks, a softness about his eyes, and looseness in his body.

"Do you have plans for Christmas?" Jack asked casually.

Ianto shook his head. "Nope. Just trying to avoid any familial entanglements."

Jack didn't reply for a bit, hoping Ianto might volunteer more information. Yet when Jack finished his second drink and sat back, Ianto almost appeared asleep. Jack sighed, wishing Ianto was awake now that they had a chance to relax and talk.

"I'm awake," said Ianto without opening his eyes. "Just thinking."

"About how to avoid your family on Christmas?" teased Jack.

"Yep." Again, nothing more was offered, but this time Jack asked. He was feeling comfortable and curious and content.

"Why?"

"Why what?" asked Ianto.

"Why don't you want to see your family on Christmas? It's Christmas, it's family. It's what you're supposed to do." He waited while Ianto took a deep breath and sat up, turning to face Jack. It sent a slight thrill of warmth through him, this casual companionship and open conversation. Too often their interactions were still tainted with the memory of betrayal, or lost in a haze of lust. At that moment, Jack felt more at ease than he had in years.

"Too many questions," Ianto said softly. "They don't know what I do, so how do I even begin to explain the last eight months? I can't." He sighed. "It's better to avoid them, at least in large groups. I might be good at creating stories for what we do here, but I don't like creating my own stories for an audience."

"You're good at it." Jack laughed, but Ianto hung his head, misinterpreting Jack's comment.

"I know," he whispered. "And I'm sorry."

Jack's hand flew to Ianto's leg. "No, that's not what I meant at all. I just meant…well, damn."

"It's okay."

"I'm sorry, too," said Jack, meaning it.

"I know."

More silence descended, accompanied by the awkwardness Jack had been thinking was pleasantly absent. He blew out a breath. "Another drink?" he asked.

"Trying to get me drunk?" asked Ianto, forced lightness in his voice.

"Just trying to relax. We deserve it. The Rift has been quiet, but the Weevils haven't."

Which was true. Weevil calls had kept them all out in some combination for several nights in a row. Everyone was taking turns, and that night just happened to be Jack and Ianto's turn. They had ended up chasing down half a dozen of the creatures before heading out for a small retrieval, and given that it was well past midnight, Jack was hoping there wouldn't be any more issues. He was tired, and Ianto looked knackered. He probably shouldn't be offering a third drink, but he wanted to reclaim the easy, open conversation from earlier. So he made them each a double.

Ianto's eyes went wide at the first sip. "You really are trying to get me pissed!" he exclaimed.

Jack shook his head with a grin. "I'm not," he said. "Although I bet you're a fascinating drunk."

"Fascinating?" Ianto rolled his eyes. "Not quite."

"So what are you, then?" asked Jack. "Fun, flirty, angry, depressed?" In spite of himself, Ianto apparently couldn't help grinning into his drink.

"I tend to get a bit…ah, affectionate, for one," he said, then shook his head. "No, that's night right. Horny and uninhibited is more like it," he laughed. "And a bit vulgar," he added.

"Then why in the world haven't we gone to the pub together?" teased Jack. "I would love to see a horny, uninhibited, and vulgar Ianto Jones."

"No, you don't." Ianto took a deep sip of his drink. "Which is why I should stop, but it's too good, and I'm too tired."

Jack made a sound of agreement. After a long silence, he chanced conversation again.

"So if you don't want to spend the holiday with family, why not the end of the world? It would give you a reason to get away."

Ianto rolled his neck, and Jack thought he heard it crack. "Right, because 'Sorry, mum, but I have to go and save the world from the green skinned lizard aliens of Alpha Centauri who just landed on the Plass' would go over well at a traditional Welsh Christmas dinner."

"They're not green," said Jack, grinning in reflection as he sipped his drink. It was strong, and he was starting to feel the effects. "And they're not lizards, either."

He pictured the look on Ianto's face: skeptical eyebrow, small frown, perhaps slightly wider eyes, and a shake of the head.

"I really don't know whether to believe you or not, you know."

"I know," said Jack. "But most of the time you can. Look it up in the archives sometime."

Ianto stood, but apparently too fast, because he fell right back down to the sofa, jostling Jack enough to send them both into a fit of giggles.

"I will. But not right now, apparently."

"Ooh, feeling horny, uninhibited, or vulgar yet?" asked Jack. He took another large gulp of his drink, finally starting to feel the pleasant warmth of the alcohol course through him and begin to relax limbs tired and sore from chasing Weevils so many nights. He closed his eyes and sighed in contentment. When Ianto didn't answer, he opened one eye and found the other man watching him with a grin.

"What?" asked Jack.

"Nothing," said Ianto. "Just wondering what you're like after a few drinks. Horny, uninhibited, and vulgar too?"

"Ianto, I am always horny, uninhibited, and vulgar."

"Point."

Silence. Jack turned sideways on the sofa and propped himself up on the palm of his hand.

"I get talkative when I drink. So if you're not crazy about spending the holiday with your family and don't want a major catastrophe as distraction, what are you planning to do?"

"Don't know," said Ianto. He was staring into the Hub, his eyes distant. "Might have proposed to Lisa, she once said she thought Christmas proposals were romantic." He shrugged. "Then again, I'm not very romantic, so I'm sure I would have mucked it up somehow."

Jack wasn't sure what to say, but he didn't want his lack of a response to answer for him. He let his hand reach toward Ianto's face, gently brushed his fingers down the man's cheek.

"You probably shouldn't be alone," he said softly, then wondered where that had come from, since it sounded a bit suggestive. And he was hardly one to talk, after all; he'd spent dozens of Christmases alone.

"Or it might be for the best," Ianto replied with a shrug. "I don't know what sort of company I'd be. I honestly haven't thought about it much. When I do, the idea of spending a quiet night in my flat, tucked away from the world, sitting in front of the fire watching bad holiday movies with a bottle of wine and a plate of fresh pasta sounds rather appealing."

Jack smiled. "Yeah, it does. I hope the Rift is quiet, then. You deserve it." He wondered if Ianto was thinking about asking Jack to join him, or if Jack should ask Ianto if he wanted to go out to dinner, since he couldn't very well invite himself over to the other man's flat, no matter how appealing Ianto's vision of Christmas sounded. Ianto said nothing, although he leaned in toward Jack's touch a bit more.

"Feeling affectionate?" teased Jack. Ianto glanced at him through thick eyelashes, that crooked half-smile on his face that made him look so damn sexy when they were alone.

"Might be," Ianto replied.

"Horny?" continued Jack, edging closer. "Uninhibited?"

"Oh, it doesn't take much for that lately."

"Really?" asked Jack. Yes, the alcohol had loosened Ianto's tongue if he was talking about sex.

"Yep." Ianto tilted his head to the side and Jack ran his fingers along the man's neck. "You and your secret magic sex powers."

"Magic sex powers?" Jack laughed. "I didn't think it was that big a secret, though."

Ianto shook his head. "I suppose not, the way you flirt and tell stories."

"But you like it," Jack murmured, leaning closer.

Ianto rolled his eyes, but they were heavy lidded with desire, and he licked his lips as he set down his mug, returning to the sofa and moving even closer.

"The stories or the powers?" he murmured. "Because I like one much more than the other."

"Oh, are we getting to the uninhibited part now?" asked Jack. He tossed back the rest of his drink and set it down, moving back to wrap an arm around Ianto's shoulder.

"Not quite," Ianto replied. His eyes slipped closed before he shifted away from Jack, neatly falling to the side and pulling Jack with him so that Ianto's hands were now firmly wrapped around Jack's waist and laying on his arse. Jack was rather impressed with the move. It must have shown on his face because Ianto grinned and raised one hand to the back of Jack's head, pulling him down.

"Uninhibited would be me asking you to come over for Christmas," Ianto replied. "Which I'm not." He brushed his lips against Jack's, moving his hips at the same time and pulling a low groan from Jack that had him grinning. "At least, not yet."

"Need another drink?" murmured Jack, teasing kisses along Ianto's jaw.

"Not if I want to shag you properly," Ianto murmured, then let his head fall back as he laughed. "Okay, maybe a bit uninhibited," he amended.

"Does that mean I get an invitation?" asked Jack. He sat up and undid Ianto's tie, then began unbuttoning his waistcoat, then his deep blue shirt. Ianto massaged Jack's upper thighs; it was rather distracting, especially as he was finding it hard to balance and not rub himself against Ianto's obvious erection.

"To what?" asked Ianto, his brow knitting together slightly. "To shag or be shagged?"

Jack laughed, running his hands up and down Ianto's bare chest. He slipped Ianto's tie off as he kissed the Welshman deeply, leaving them both slightly breathless. Tossing the tie on the table beside them, Jack started to lick a mark into Ianto's neck, right at the spot he knew drove the other man crazy.

"Do I need an invitation?" Jack murmured against Ianto's warm skin. Sure enough, the man bucked beneath him, groaning his name.

"Not when you do that," he managed to gasp out.

"Oh, I can do even better than that," said Jack, and proceeded to show him until Ianto begged him to stop.

"Bed," he murmured, even though his hands were fumbling with Jack's trousers. "Yours. Blankets. Pillows. Lube."

"Flavored?" murmured Jack, still kissing him.

"God, yes," said Ianto. "And candles and music and sex and more sex…" He trailed off, looking slightly surprised. "I am drunk."

"Going to talk dirty to me now?" asked Jack, and god, he wanted it. He might not be able to control himself for long if Ianto Jones talked dirty for him.

Ianto glanced down, clearly eyeing Jack's erection, then met his eyes before leaning up to whisper something deliciously filthy in Jack's ear, punctuating it with a lick, a suck, and a bite. Jack shivered and twitched and jumped up, pulling Ianto with him.

"Bed," he panted. "Now."

"Now," Ianto agreed, though they couldn't keep their hands off one another and literally stumbled toward Jack's office before Ianto once again stopped them.

"Bring the chocolate," he murmured against Jack's lips, then abruptly straightened with a sudden grin. "And the rest of the pudding from lunch."

Jack groaned and took Ianto for another long kiss. When he turned toward the kitchen, Ianto tugged on his hand.

"You should come over for Christmas," he said. Jack stopped in his tracks.

"What?" he asked.

"Come over Christmas," Ianto repeated slowly. "To mine. We can watch bad Christmas movies in front of the fire—"

"And drink wine with a plate of pasta?" asked Jack, trying to sound light when in reality his heart was thumping. It had been years since he had spent Christmas with anyone, let alone someone he liked, and he definitely liked Ianto Jones.

"Can you cook?" asked Ianto.

"Yes, and I'll bring wine," said Jack. He squeezed Ianto's hand. "But first, I've been ordered to get the chocolate and pudding."

"Right," said Ianto, nodding as if he had forgotten. "Chocolate and pudding. And towels. Bring towels."

Jack burst out laughing. "I have towels downstairs," he said. "But I love the way you think, Mr. Jones."

"And I love the way you…" Ianto glanced around as if someone might hear them, then leaned closer and whispered something almost shocking in Jack's ear. Tempted to shag him right there, Jack hobbled over to the kitchen, grabbed the required supplies plus the bottle of chocolate liquor, and hurried back to his office, where Ianto was halfway down the ladder.

"Oh, this could be interesting," he said, glancing up Jack's leg with a dirty little smirk that left no doubt as to what he was thinking.

"Bed," Jack reminded him. "Pillows. Blankets."

"Flavored lube."

"Candles and music."

"Pasta and wine," Ianto continued.

"That's for another night," Jack murmured, following him down.

"For Christmas," Ianto clarified.

"For Christmas," said Jack. "If you'll still have me when you wake up."

"If you still want to come by when you wake up," Ianto tossed back, before practically attacking Jack's shirt. Jack helped him along and quickly divested the other man of his shirt as well, letting his hands settle on Ianto's hips.

"I would really like to," said Jack, smiling against Ianto's mouth. "Thank you for asking."

"Thank you for accepting," murmured Ianto. "And thank you for the drinks, even if they were served in ugly mugs as a way to get into my pants on Christmas."

"It's not Christmas," said Jack, not following Ianto's reasoning. "And I'm not in your pants yet."

"And you don't think that sitting around watching bad Christmas movies in front of the fire with a bottle of wine and a plate of pasta is going to end up that way?"

"Point," said Jack.

"Now we're tied," said Ianto, wiggling his eyebrows. He stopped as another idea came to him. "Oh." He glanced around. "Where's my tie?"

"It's upstairs, so maybe later," laughed Jack, leaning in for another kiss. "I thought you had something else in mind."

"I do," said Ianto. "Let's see how this works." Ianto grabbed the bottle of liquor, took a deep sip, then leaned over and kissed Jack deeply. Jack groaned out loud at the taste of rich chocolate on his mouth, then did the same.

"If what works?" he asked when he was finished. Ianto picked up the pudding, tossed the lid on the nearby dresser, and dipped one slim finger into the sticky mess. Then he held it up, popped it into his mouth, and slowly sucked it clean. Jack almost came in his pants.

"There's quite a list," Ianto murmured.

"See, your lines are brilliant," Jack replied. He did the same with the pudding, completely taken by following Ianto's lead and utterly satisfied to see Ianto's eyes darken with lust at being followed.

"Trousers off," said Ianto. "Don't want to get anything on them."

"Just on me?" suggested Jack.

"If you want to go first," Ianto replied.

"It was your idea," said Jack. He stepped out of his trousers and then his pants before lying down in his bed, arms behind his head. "Candles?" he asked.

"Save them for Christmas," said Ianto, staring unabashedly at Jack's naked body spread out before him.

"More romantic?" asked Jack. Ianto stared at him, shook himself, and glanced away with a bittersweet grin.

"If we were the romantic type."

"What are we, then?" asked Jack. He wouldn't mind the romance, although he sensed they were treading in dangerous waters. It was a bit of a loaded question, but fortunately, Ianto rescued them.

"We…" Ianto began, then grinned. "We are about to get dirty."

The double meaning was clear.

Ianto slowly unzipped his trousers, effortlessly slipping them off but leaving his boxers on. He picked up the bowl of pudding and straddled Jack.

"You look like you could use this," he whispered, dipping his finger into the pudding once more. Jack gave in to Ianto's expert hands and warm lips. The pudding was a bonus; even better was the lazy, hot shower they took to clean up.

They fell asleep tangled together, the scent of chocolate and pudding filling the air around them. Jack idly wondered if Ianto had meant what he'd said about Christmas, or if he'd regret offering the invitation in the morning. Even as the effects of the hot chocolate and amazing sex wore off and sleep began to claim him, Jack hoped he was still welcome at Ianto's flat for Christmas. He couldn't imagine a better way to spend the holiday than with the man beside him. In front of the fire, with wine and pasta and bad Christmas movies.

Especially if it ended with pudding and chocolate.

Or maybe a tie.

* * *

><p><span>Author's Notes:<span>

If you are interested, I wrote twelve short holiday stories last year, called Winter Wonderwood. I thought about calling this Winter Wonderwood 2, but I really hate the name Winter Wonderwood. What was I thinking? I'm hoping that this second collection will have about six stories by Christmas. Updates every few days, and I hope you enjoy!


	2. The Nutcracker

The Nutcracker (Series 2)

"So…" Jack trailed off, tapping his fingers on the window as he gazed out into the dark night. "Where are we off to?"

"You'll see," said Ianto, eyes on the road. "It's a surprise."

"I'm not a big fan of surprises, you know," Jack replied after a few moments of silence.

"Yes, you are," Ianto replied. "You don't like secrets, remember?"

Jack sighed. He usually did enjoy surprises, and was particularly intrigued by whatever Ianto had planned. He was impatient, though, and Ianto's stubborn insistence was as much of a turn on as it was irritating. Whatever the man had planned, Jack hoped it was quick, because he had his own plans for the Welshman afterwards…

Ianto turned on the cd player. The strains of a symphony orchestra filled the car. Jack glanced sideways at Ianto.

"_The Nutcracker_?" he asked. "You have _The Nutcracker_ in your cd player?"

"It's Christmas," said Ianto, as if that explained it.

Jack nodded, easily accepting the explanation, and couldn't help but whistle along. He sensed Ianto grinning next to him and stopped.

"Have you ever seen it?" asked Ianto.

Jack offered him a _'What do you think?'_ look.

"Let me guess, you were at the premiere," Ianto said, dry pitch to his voice. "Tchaikovsky was gay, you probably had a celebratory shag." He paused. "No, it wasn't an immediate success, you so comforted him afterward, didn't you?"

Jack shook his head, tempted to laugh but the matter-of-fact tone about his sexual past was a bit sobering. "No, I was not at the premiere. That was in Russia, wasn't it? I was, however, at the English premiere in…1934, I think. So yes, I've seen it. Been a while, though."

Ianto turned and looked at him in surprise. "You haven't been since?" he asked. Jack shrugged in reply.

"Not something I felt like I needed to see more than once," he replied. "I enjoyed it, though."

Ianto simply nodded in response. Jack glanced out the window again and started to get an idea.

"We're going to see it, aren't we? At St. David's?"

Ianto gave him a wink and a smile.

Jack watched him, studied him, searching for some crack in the façade, but there was nothing. "So…is there a reason, other than holiday cheer?"

"Tradition," Ianto replied. "I used to go with my grandparents growing up. Probably saw it a dozen times."

"And?"

Ianto grinned sheepishly. "Free tickets," he confessed.

"Tourist office promotion?" asked Jack, but Ianto shook his head.

"No, I actually know someone in the production."

"Who?" Jack asked without thinking.

"One of the dancers," Ianto replied.

"Ah ha," said Jack. "The truth comes out. Is she a former classmate? Neighbor? Girlfriend?"

"No, no, and definitely no," said Ianto. "He is…well, he's different."

"You know a male dancer?" Jack asked, unable to keep the excitement from his voice, and to his delight, he got the eye roll in response.

"Ballet is not exotic dancing, Jack. And yes, I know a male ballet dancer. I helped him out not too long ago—a case of sorts."

"Wait, you met him through Torchwood?" asked Jack, surprised. He turned toward Ianto with a frown. "What case?"

Ianto cleared his throat as he pulled into a car park. "It was while you were gone," he replied.

"Oh." Jack was silent for a moment. "Did he…was he…did you…" He didn't know how to ask, didn't think he had a right to ask, especially since Ianto had probably handled a number of cases during Jack's absence. That didn't mean Ianto had dated or slept with them all. And yet this was clearly different, and the thought that they were there to see one of Ianto's friends, possibly an ex-lover and probably in tight pants didn't sit right with Jack. It made him feel something he didn't want to feel even though he'd been feeling it for a while—that tiny spark of jealousy he usually prided himself on avoiding.

Ianto shook his head, a look of fondness crossed with exasperation on his face. "No, Jack, we didn't. He's…well, you know how you have contacts around the city you go to for certain information?"

Jack nodded, though he wasn't quite sure which contacts Ianto was referring to; Jack had been around for a long time, after all, and had a lot of contacts for a lot of different needs.

"He's one of my contacts. I helped him with something, checked in on him several times, and now we keep in touch regularly. If I have questions, I call him. If he needs something, he calls me."

Jack was completely lost. What sort of 'something' was Ianto talking about? Sexual favors? Bondage, domination, roleplay? Now he was starting to get upset, because if Ianto had questions, Jack would be more than happy to answer them.

"Jack." Ianto was eyeing him funny. "You okay?"

Jack shook himself. "Yeah, yeah—I'm fine. Just…surprised, that's all."

Ianto narrowed his eyes. "You think it's about sex, aren't you?" he asked, then shook his head as he undid his seat belt. "Not everything is about sex, Jack."

"It sort of sounds like it," Jack grumbled, and Ianto reached out to take Jack's hand.

"Jack, Bennett is an alien."

Jack stared. "What?"

"He came through the Rift. He's humanoid, but he couldn't go to Flat Holm, and he didn't need to. He's fine—intelligent, articulate, and he understands the circumstances, unlike most aliens who come through the Rift." Ianto shook his head and sighed. "So I set him up with a new identity, found him someplace to live, that sort of thing. What else could I do?"

Jack kept staring.

"Jack? Did I do the wrong thing? Because Bennett is a good man…alien…well, Jaal, I suppose. He's not doing anyone any harm, and he seems happy here."

Jack stared at him before leaning forward and kissing him hard.

"What was that for?" Ianto asked when they pulled apart. Jack laid his forehead against Ianto.

"That was for you and your brilliant mind and your even bigger heart."

"Oh."

Jack kissed him again.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked as they stepped out of the car. Ianto stopped to think about it.

"No reason, really. I didn't want the rest of the team to know, for one. About Flat Holm or me giving an alien amnesty without any real authority." Ianto looked sheepish at that last. "And to be honest, he's been a valuable resource, and a good friend. I guess I liked having that to myself."

"You own secret contact," Jack teased.

"My own secret _alien_ contact," Ianto amended. "How else do you think I know some of the things I know?" He punctuated it with a wink, hands in his pockets as they hurried through the cold Welsh night into the hall.

"So he gave you free tickets?" Jack asked as they lined up in the queue. Ianto nodded.

"Sort of a thank-you, I suppose. Turns out Jaals have an innate sensitivity and incredible ability to dance. It's their heritage. Once Bennett discovered ballet, he asked me to forge some credentials." Ianto actually colored and looked away. "I didn't want to, but when he showed me how well he could dance, I knew he didn't need to go through all the training. He'd picked it all up himself watching YouTube videos. And now he's dancing in _The Nutcracker_."

"A remarkable story," Jack noted, and Ianto agreed.

"I much prefer dancing aliens to snarling ones."

"Can I meet him afterwards?" Jack asked as they presented their tickets to the usher. Although he implicitly trusted Ianto's judgement, he still wanted to meet this new alien in Cardiff, if only to keep himself aware of the refugee population. And know the competition.

"Absolutely," said Ianto as they made their way to their assigned row. They had fantastic seats, and Jack was growing excited. In part because he was enjoying a date at the ballet with Ianto, yet also because he had heard of the Jaals, but never seen a live performance of their legendary ability. "I've told him about you, and I think he's ready."

"Ready?" asked Jack.

"You can be a bit intimidating," Ianto pointed out.

"I can't help it," Jack protested, and Ianto laughed.

"I know," he said, patting Jack on the leg. "But he was still nervous. Apparently you've got quite the reputation in the underground alien community."

"I hope it's a good one," Jack grumbled. He worked hard to protect them and maintain a relationship with the small number of aliens who had found themselves stranded on Earth for whatever reason. It was important to him, given Torchwood's sketchy past.

"It is," Ianto assured him. "You do good things for them, Jack."

"Sounds like you are too," said Jack, once again struck by Ianto's ability to keep secrets, although he was glad that this one wasn't a dangerous secret. This one only reflected the Welshman's incredible sense of compassion and understanding.

"I'm trying. Bennett has introduced me to a few others. I'm setting up my own network, I suppose. It's not what One would have done, but it feels more right. It's what we do." Ianto glanced at the program and smiled, pointing out the Jaal's name in the program. "Have you ever seen a Jaal dance before?"

Jack shook his head. "No, but I've heard of them. We should be in for a real treat."

"I couldn't find much about them in the database," Ianto said. "But my guess is that they are mildly telepathic and broadcast while they are dancing. It's the only way to explain how moving it was to watch. It was…incredible. Breathtaking, really."

Jack searched his memory for whatever he knew about the Jaal and nodded. "I think you're probably right. Although, he must be highly trained to be able to perform in front large audiences. Jaal are also empaths, and from what I remember reading, dancing in front of an audience is difficult with so many emotions battering them at once."

Ianto nodded. "That's what Bennett said, but he said he's been trained to block the audience. Apparently he was just beginning his career on his home planet. I wish there was some way we could send him back."

"Did he say when he was from?" asked Jack hesitantly, not sure if he wanted to know the answer. If the Jaal was from their time, it might be possible to contact an alien cruiser for transport. But if he wasn't, then there was very little they could do.

"The future," Ianto murmured, glancing down before meeting Jack's eyes. "Another reason I couldn't take him to Flat Holm."

"You did the right thing," said Jack, and now it was his turn to squeeze Ianto's hand. "If he's happy and dancing, then we are about to see something amazing."

"I think we are. And he seems happy, but I know how hard it is for you, out of your time…" Ianto trailed off, and Jack leaned over to kiss him.

"I'm happy too," he whispered.

"So am I," said Ianto. "Thank you for coming with me. Happy Christmas."

"Happy Christmas. And thank you for inviting me. I wouldn't miss it." They sat quietly for a moment, reading the program, before Jack leaned close once more.

"So did Bennett show you any…moves?" he asked innocently. Ianto cocked his head with an incredulous look.

"Jack, I told you we didn't—"

"I meant ballet," Jack interrupted.

"No you didn't," said Ianto, and Jack grinned.

"No, I didn't. But one can hope. Apparently Jaals are good at more than just dancing."

Ianto stared at him for a moment, then back at the stage with a thoughtful look on his face. "Well, it appears I missed my chance then."

"You probably did."

"Maybe I'll have to take him up on his offer after all," Ianto continued. "For research purposes."

"You—what?" asked Jack. "But I thought you said—"

"Watch the ballet, Jack."

"But Ianto…you're not serious, are you? You wouldn't really…well, shag an alien, would you?"

"I'm shagging you, aren't I?" asked Ianto. His voice must have been too loud because the couple in front of them turned around with wide eyes.

"But I'm not—" Jack started.

"Relax, Jack," Ianto replied with a silent chuckle as the music started. "I was only joking."

Jack took Ianto's hand and held it tight. "I hope so. I don't want to compete with an alien for your affections."

"You never will, Jack," whispered Ianto. He squeezed Jack's hand, glancing sideways with a small smile.

_And neither will you,_ Jack wanted to add. _I'm all yours._ But the dancers appeared at that moment, and Ianto's face lit up as the Christmas celebration began on stage to the strains of the familiar holiday music. Jack's gaze was glued to Ianto, who rolled his eyes and gestured toward the stage.

"Watch the ballet, Jack. Not me."

"Yes, sir," he murmured, eliciting another smile from Ianto. They held hands through the first act, though Jack found his mind wandering more than once from the story before him and instead to the remarkable man beside him.

Yes, he was Ianto's, and Ianto was his. For as many holidays as they had together.

* * *

><p><span>Author's Notes<span>

I saw the ballet this season and couldn't resist somehow writing about it. Little did I suspect it would birth an OC! While Ianto mentions Bennett's origin a bit here, there is also more to Bennett's story after this. Someday I hope to write about him one day, as I am sort of intrigued by the idea of Ianto helping and befriending an alien while Jack was gone. Bennett is the happy version; last year I started a much darker twist on something similar. So someday! My 'I want to write a story about this!' list is very, very long. I hope you enjoyed it. The next one is a fun ride. :)


	3. Christmas Songs, Part One

Christmas Songs, Part One (Series 2)

"I hate this song," grumbled Owen as he drove back to the Hub after a particularly vigorous Weevil chase.

Gwen turned to him in surprise. "Why?" she asked. "It's the perfect Christmas song!"

"It's crap," Owen griped, reaching over to turn down the radio. "Inane holiday drivel wrapped up in a package of sentimental schmaltz."

Gwen looked slightly shocked at Owen's vehemence. "Ianto?" she asked. "You like this song, don't you?"

"Actually, I find it a depressing insight into the exclusion, oppression, and exploitation of both reindeer and elves."

"What?" asked Gwen and Owen together, turning around to glance at Ianto in the back seat of the SUV, one with wide eyes, one with a raised eyebrow.

"How do you get all that from one lame Christmas song?" asked Owen.

"It's not lame," said Gwen. "It's a heartwarming story about love, loyalty, and acceptance. It's about the Christmas spirit, not exclusion and oppression."

Owen and Ianto snorted in tandem.

"Even I know there is more going on in that stupid story than most people think," said Owen. "So what tweaks your nose, Ianto?"

"Well, to start with, it glorifies being accepted for what you do, not who you are, and only if you can do something no one else can do that happens to be desperately needed at a time of great hardship."

"That's a very bleak way to look at it, Ianto," said Gwen.

"Coffee," Owen coughed under his breath, but Ianto ignored him.

"It's true, though. The physical deformity of the title was only accepted by everyone because the weather conditions at the time were so bad that it was the only way to ensure success."

"Which was why he was a hero," argued Gwen. "He saved Christmas!"

"He enabled the continued exploitation of his fellow workers under a political and economic dictatorship, Gwen," said Ianto. "Workers who had, until that moment, ostracized him for the physical deformity they suddenly needed so badly." He gazed out the side window, watching the cars go by in the dark, a small smile quirking at his lips. "Given their treatment of him, perhaps that was his intent."

"Wait, are you saying he wanted revenge for being called names so he conned his way into working that night in order to drag them all out into the storm?" asked Owen. Ianto nodded.

"I'm merely suggesting the possibility of darker motives at work in what we have always perceived as a joyous ode to overcoming adversity."

"I'll never listen to it the same way again," Owen muttered. Gwen looked halfway to crushed.

"Have you seen the movie, then?" asked Gwen. "The old one with the funny clay puppets?"

Ianto huffed. "What child hasn't? It's required viewing in most households, I suspect."

"That's because it's good, honest, fun," said Gwen, nodding to herself. "It's hopeful and uplifting, and the songs are wonderful!"

"It's littered with sexism, torment, animal cruelty, and abuse of power," said Ianto. "And the music is positively insipid, Gwen. Bloody awful."

Owen was laughing silently as he continued toward the bay.

"What's so funny?" demanded Gwen. "Ianto is destroying one of my favorite childhood songs! It's nothing to laugh about."

"He's got some good points," said Owen. "I knew there was a reason I didn't like this song."

"Okay, fine," said Gwen. "Start at the beginning. Sexism?"

"Only male reindeers pull the sleigh, for one. Mrs. Claus serving Santa, for another." Ianto leaned forward, poking his head into the front seat. "And when Rudolph's mother wants to go look for him, his father tells her it's a man's job." He leaned back, shaking his head. "Scandalous."

"Yeah, I never liked that part," Gwen admitted. "But it was a product of the times, don't you think?"

"Doesn't make it acceptable today," Ianto pointed out.

"Torment?" asked Gwen.

"Bunch of bullies, the whole lot," said Owen.

"It's part of the lesson," said Gwen. "The bullies learn how heartless and wrong they were."

"Right, just like real life," muttered Owen, adding an eye roll for good measure.

"What about animal cruelty?" asked Gwen, ignoring him. "You're not just talking about the reindeer, are you?"

"There is that," acknowledged Ianto, "but that goes more toward the exploitation of a entire population of creatures who live to serve his special needs. No, I was thinking of the Abominable Snowman."

"Bumbles," said Gwen with a fond smile.

"An innocent creature who is rendered helpless by the cruel and unnecessary actions of the dominant species of the North Pole."

"What are you talking about?" asked Gwen.

"You know, that's a good point, Teaboy," said Owen with a nod. "I never thought about it that way."

"What way?" asked Gwen, still not understanding.

"That bloody gay elf ripped its teeth out," said Owen. Ianto leaned forward again and cleared his throat.

"We don't know he was gay, Owen," he pointed out.

"He wanted to be a dentist," said Owen.

"My dentist is straight," said Ianto.

"So is mine," added Gwen. "Wanting to be a dentist doesn't mean you're gay, Owen."

"What did you want to be when you grew up, Jones?" asked Owen, smirking at Ianto. The Welshman rolled his eyes.

"A secret agent protecting the world from evil aliens, of course," he replied dryly.

"Well, you got most of it right," said Owen. "Except for the secret bit." Ianto tipped his head.

"Back to the elf," he said.

"The gay elf," said Owen.

This time Gwen rolled her eyes. "Owen..."

"What? He dressed different, talked funny, and had an unhealthy oral fixation. Definitely gay, even if he was in the closet."

"Owen Harper," Gwen started, "you are-"

"Trying to wind you up, Gwen," said Ianto. "Don't let him."

Gwen huffed as Owen frowned at Ianto.

"Spoil my fun, why don't you?"

"I believe I just did. Now explain to Gwen why we have a problem with the elf."

"Because he pulled out all of the snowman's teeth without any anesthesia, leaving unable to feed or defend himself. Imagine the pain the thing was in!"

"Not to mentioned confused and frightened and probably in shock. And then Yukon Cornelius taunts him over the edge of a cliff." Ianto almost sounded offended. Owen shook his head in amusement.

"I can't believe you remember that guy's name."

"I know everything," said Ianto.

"So sexism, bullying, animal cruelty. Abuse of power would be Santa Claus, I assume." When Ianto nodded, Gwen sighed. "So what else is wrong with my favorite holiday song?" She sounded thoroughly demoralized.

"That about covers it," said Ianto. "Rethinking the bit about heartwarming Christmas spirit?"

"Pick a new favorite, Gwen," said Owen as they pulled into the car park by the Hub. "Ianto Jones has just thoroughly destroyed Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer."

"Well, I liked Frosty the Snowman," said Gwen.

"Creepy," said Owen.

"With a spot of murder," added Ianto.

"Santa Claus is Coming to Town?"

"Even I know that song is a not-so-subtle threat to obey authority and toe the party line," said Owen. He turned to glance at Ianto. "How about you?"

"It's crap," said Ianto with a wink.

"Eloquent," snorted Owen.

"You asked."

"What about classic films?" asked Gwen as they got out of the car. "It's a Wonderful Life? White Christmas? A Christmas Carol?"

Ianto opened his mouth, but Owen put a hand on the man's shoulder. "Gwen, don't let him shatter the rest of your holiday dreams. Leave while you can and tell Jack we'll be up with the Weevil in a minute."

She sighed and nodded and walked off, shoulders slumped. Owen turned to Ianto, hands crossed over his chest.

"Are you really that much of a Scrooge or were you just messing with her?" he demanded. Ianto moved toward the back of the SUV.

"What do you think?" he asked.

"I have no idea," said Owen. "You are far too good at things like this, and I hate admitting that."

Ianto grinned. "Thank you."

"It wasn't a compliment. Now, 'fess up. Do you really hate Christmas that much?"

"Of course not," said Ianto. "I have very fond memories of Christmas and am looking forward to it this year, actually."

"Then why the Ghost of Christmas Gloom and Doom?" asked Owen, grunting as they pulled a large Weevil from the boot. Ianto slammed the door shut.

"It's amusing."

Owen stared at him. "What?"

"It's fun," Ianto said. "While I enjoy Christmas a great deal, I don't like the hypocrisy inherent in a lot of holiday songs, stories, and other traditions, and pointing it out is both informative and-"

"Fun?"

"Yep."

"So you were messing with her."

"Yep."

"After calling me out on the same?"

"I suppose you could look at it that way." Ianto grinned and picked up the feet of the Weevil. "Come on, let's get him tucked up inside. Work to do."

Owen shook his head. "I don't know how Jack puts up with you sometimes."

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "I thought it was the other way around?"

"Not today," said Owen. "What are you going to do about Gwen?"

"What about Gwen?" asked Ianto.

"You just ruined her favorite childhood memory of Christmas with big words like sexism and exploitation."

They set the Weevil down on the stretcher they kept in the entrance to the Hub for corpses and other large items they couldn't easily carry inside. Rolling it into the lift, Ianto punched the floor for the Hub and waited.

"Well?" asked Owen.

"I'll make it up to her," said Ianto. "Something to restore her faith in trite holiday sentimentality."

"When you put it that way..." Owen murmured, and Ianto acknowledged the irony.

"Besides, do you really think Gwen gives up her convictions that easily?" asked Ianto. "I might have given her something to think about, but she will always strive to see the good in things, no matter how hard she has to look. And really, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer is not that bad."

Owen shook his head in disbelief. "You could have fooled me."

"I usually do."

"You know, sometimes you are such a-"

They stepped into the Hub and stopped short. Gwen was sitting on the couch, doubled over with laughter and tears running down her face. Jack and Tosh were standing in front of her, their backs to Owen and Ianto. When they turned around, even Owen cracked a smile.

Jack and Tosh both had bright red noses.

Gwen shrieked with even more laughter at the look on Owen and Ianto's face. Jack smirked.

"Sexism, Ianto? Really?"

Ianto just stared; it was ridiculous and adorable and left him speechless.

"Don't get him started again, Jack," said Owen, clapping Ianto on the shoulder. "Trust me. He can ruin any holiday tradition."

"Even if it involves peppermint whip cream and-"

"Don't." Owen shook his head. "I do not want to know, and yes, Teaboy can destroy it."

Jack winked. "Not if it was his idea."

"Jack!" said Ianto. "Not the time or place."

Jack pretended to pout. "All right. Lock up the Weevil, then meet me in my office. We need to discuss your rather opinionated opinion of one of Earth's most beloved Christmas heroes." He took off the red nose and popped it into his mouth, licking his lips as he finished. Apparently Jack was using a cherry. Ianto's cherries. Cherries he had made plans for later…

"Opinionated opinion?" asked Owen.

"Are those my cherries?" asked Ianto.

Jack winked, Owen groaned, Gwen collapsed in another fit of giggles, and Tosh shook her head with a fond smile.

"Ten minutes," said Jack, his voice practically a purr.

Ianto cleared his throat, inclined his head, and tried to affect as straight a face as he could manage. "Yes, sir. But in the meantime, I leave you all with one more thought." He paused for dramatic effect, and to let Gwen catch her breath.

"What if Rudolph had said no?"

With that he hurried off toward the cells, leaving four team members stunned wide-eyed and silent before him. He noticed the jar of cherries on Tosh's desk and grabbed it as he walked by, making sure Jack saw him pocket it, then offered a small smirk.

"Ten minutes and counting, _sir_."

Ianto turned and left, but not before he heard Owen mutter under his breath, "Stupid reindeer games."

At least he had won.

* * *

><p><span>Author's Notes<span>

Merlin, that was _fun! _So I was watching that goofy clay movie about Rudolph and Hermey and Bumbles and couldn't help imagining this little scene. And when you stop and think about it, the scene where Hermey takes out the snowman's teeth, and then Yukon Cornelius practically pushes him over a cliff, is a bit disturbing. The other stuff is a bit of an exaggeration, perhaps, but that scene did bother me. Guess I'm not ten years old any more. I hope I didn't ruin anyone's happy memory of Rudolph. It's all in good fun. I'm working on a sequel to restore your faith. ;)


	4. Christmas Songs, Part Two

Christmas Songs, Part Two (Series Two)

The shrill tone of his mobile phone interrupted one of Ianto's better dreams in recent weeks. As he groped for the offensive device, he struggled to remember, but could only recall vague images of him and Jack among the stars, traveling through vast galaxies of marshmallows and gumdrops in a spacecraft shaped like a large sleigh and driven by eight flying Weevils.

Too much curry, then.

"Jones," he rasped into the speaker, untangling himself from the sheets and trying to sit up. He failed, swore under his breath, and fell back to his pillow, letting his eyes slip shut.

"Did I interrupt your beauty sleep?" asked Jack, sounding cheerful and awake. Ianto glanced at his bedside clock.

"No, I'm always awake at two in the morning, Jack," he grumbled. He flung a hand over his eyes and groaned to punctuate the point.

"It's Torchwood," said Jack. "It's not unusual for you to be awake at two in the morning."

"That's usually because of you, not Torchwood," Ianto replied.

Jack laughed. "But it's always worth it, isn't it?"

Ianto let his silence speak for him.

"Ianto?" asked Jack. "Are you still there?"

"Is it an emergency?" asked Ianto.

"Well, no…"

"Then call me back in about four hours." Ianto almost started to hang up, but heard Jack shout his name.

"Jack. I'm tired. If there's no emergency and you just called for phone sex, you could have come over, crawled into bed, and had a real shag in the morning."

"I'll have to remember that for next time," Jack said, sounding interested.

"Please do. Then I can get a full night's sleep and wake up just in time for breakfast sex. I'm going back to bed now, Jack."

"You know, if you were here, this would be much easier," said Jack. "I wouldn't have to call and wake you up."

"You'd just poke me, I suppose?"

"I do like to _poke_ you," Jack replied, voice laden with obvious innuendo.

"And I like to poke you too," Ianto replied. "But not now, not at two in the morning, and not over the phone."

"Then come over."

Ianto held the phone away from his ear and stared at it before returning to the speaker. "Seriously, Jack? You called me in the middle of the night because you want me to trudge over there for a blowjob?"

"Hey, I didn't say anything about a blowjob," Jack protested. "Although it would be nice."

"Of course it would, my blowjobs are always nice," Ianto said, biting back a dirty grin.

"They're brilliant," agreed Jack. "But that's not why I called. Can I come over there if you're going to be stubborn about it?"

"Of course you can, Jack," Ianto sighed. "You know you're always welcome."

Jack was silent for a moment. "I also know you need your space sometimes," he pointed out. "Especially when things get a bit crazy around here."

"True enough," Ianto admitted, surprised that Jack not only noticed but also acknowledged Ianto's more introverted nature. "It has been a bit hectic lately."

"Which is why you deserve a Rift-free night in your own flat," said Jack. "It's just that there's something I wanted to share with you."

"Uh-oh." Ianto tried not to think of what that meant coming from Jack, especially in the middle of the night.

"No, it's not like last time. Are your neighbors home?"

"Of course they're home, Jack. It's two in the morning!" Ianto shook his head. Sometimes Jack was so innocent and oblivious it was both exasperating and endearing.

"Damn. I don't want them to see anything."

Ianto snorted. "It's not like they haven't heard us before, Jack."

"Believe it or not, Ianto Jones, I'm not actually talking about sex."

"I'm shocked," Ianto deadpanned. He was awake now, so he might as well have fun with it.

"I am too," laughed Jack. "But you should come over here unless you want to Retcon your neighbors."

"Which I certainly don't," Ianto sighed. "Why can't we do this in the morning?"

"Because it snowed and right now the Plass is dark, empty, and quiet."

Ianto considered as he threw off the blanket and untangled himself from the sheets. "So I should dress warm then?"

"Boots and all."

"Jack, are you sure it's not an emergency?" he asked, standing, stretching, and holding back a yawn and a shiver. "My bed is far more appealing than cold and snow."

"It's not an emergency," said Jack. "But it is alien."

Ianto wandered through the dark toward his bathroom, blinking as the bright lights made him squint. "Tech retrieval?" he asked. He dropped his pyjama pants and began to empty his bladder. Jack must have heard.

"Ianto, are you actually pissing while we're on the phone?"

"Jack, I'm still half asleep. I'm just glad I hit the toilet and not the sink." Ianto wanted to take it back the moment he said it, knowing it was uncharacteristic for him, but Jack was laughing hysterically, and as it was the middle of the night and Ianto was dressing to go out in the snow, he didn't much care.

"Wash your hands," Jack teased. "And meet me by the tourist office in twenty minutes."

"Yes, sir," Ianto groused.

"Ianto?" Jack called before he hung up.

"What, Jack?"

"It'll be worth it," he promised. "And I'll make it up to you for waking you."

"With sex," Ianto said.

"It's what I'm good at," said Jack, the wink implied in his tone. Ianto tucked the phone under his ear as he washed his hands.

"I want hot chocolate and breakfast in bed," he said.

"With sex," said Jack.

"Of course," replied Ianto. "It's what _we're _good at, after all."

"Deal!" said Jack. "You'll love it. I promise."

"I'll see you in a few, then."

"Thanks, Ianto."

Ianto hung up the phone and brushed his teeth. He hated to admit it, but he was genuinely curious now. Jack had promised him breakfast in bed. When had that ever happened? Dressing quickly, Ianto pulled on boots, then his warmest coat, along with a hat, gloves, and scarf. He stepped outside into a winter wonderland and couldn't help but sigh at the sight. It was beautiful.

Maybe this would be worth it after all.

* * *

><p>The Plass was indeed dark and quiet, the new fallen snow completely unmarked by human passage. The sky was starting to clear and a few stars were breaking through the thin clouds. Ianto had to resist the temptation to lie down and make a snow angel and just stare at the sky, maybe even drift off to sleep again in a cold bed of white. Instead, he made his way toward the tourist office to find Jack.<p>

Jack was rolling a snowball around the nearby boardwalk area, catching as much snow as he could to make it bigger. Ianto watched for a moment, admiring the view as Jack bent over to push it along, then cleared his throat when it became obvious Jack was completely engrossed in his project.

"Ianto!" he exclaimed. "Perfect timing. I'm just about finished with the head."

Ianto raised his eyebrow at the implicit insinuation, but Jack rolled his eyes. "For once I meant that literally. Here we go."

He picked up the snowball and placed it on top of two others he had already rolled.

"You called me out here to build a snowman in the middle of the night?"

"Nope," said Jack, standing back and reaching into his pockets. "I'm just about done. I called you out here to meet the final product." He pulled several items from his pocket, and soon the snowman had two black stones for eyes, a large button for a nose, a piece of string for a mouth, and one of Jack's old scarves. A pipe, two sticks for arms, and two small lumps of snow for feet completed the look.

"Needs a hat," said Ianto, and Jack nodded in agreement.

"I know, and I have the perfect one."

He stepped into the tourist office and returned with a top hat Ianto had never seen before. A questioning look got him a sheepish shrug as Jack placed it on top of the snowman.

"I picked it up a few days ago, hoping it would snow soon," said Jack. "But it's a bit more than just a hat. Come here." He motioned Ianto to stand next to him, pulled him close, and gave him a quick kiss. And while Ianto was not usually so accepting of such random displays of affection, he was still curious and a bit tired, and returned it eagerly, thinking of how Jack had promised to make it up to him.

"All right, Scrooge," Jack whispered. "You may not hold Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer in high esteem, but surely a walking, talking snowman deserves a bit of respect."

Ianto glanced between Jack and the snowman standing in front of the tourist office door. "You must be joking."

"Not his time," Jack murmured. He raised his arm and pressed several buttons on his wrist strap. Ianto was torn between watching Jack and watching the snowman, but when the snowman really did begin to come to life, he found he could not take his eyes away.

The snowman moved its arms first, then its head. It tried to take a tentative step forward, but the lumps of snow for feet didn't move well. The mouth made of string opened and closed a few times, though no sound came out. The string curved into a frown; Jack tweaked his wrist strap, and the snowman spoke.

"Happy Birthday!" it said, mouth curving into an endearing smile. Ianto gaped at the snowman as it came toward them, toddling awkwardly on its lumpy feet.

"Hello, Jack," it said, holding out its stick-for-a-hand. "It's good to see you again."

Jack wrapped his fingers around the thin branch and smiled. "You too. It's been, what? At least twenty or thirty years?"

"I am not aware of the passage of time," the snowman said. "To me, it was only yesterday that we last spoke."

"Of course," murmured Jack. He turned and gestured to Ianto. "This is Ianto Jones. He works for Torchwood."

The snowman held out his stick hand, and Ianto shook it, still somewhat speechless. Jack watched before laughing at his reaction.

"Ianto Jones, meet Frost. He came here in 1950," Jack said. "He is actually a bit of alien technology that animates objects with artificial intelligence. It was found in New York before making its way over here."

Ianto turned and stared at Jack. "You're not serious."

"He is correct, Mr. Jones," said the snowman. "I am actually a Klaustar Animator 2.1 from the year 2876," he said. "My mechanism fell through the Rift into a hat. The hat was eventually placed on a snowman that became fully animated. The form seems to be an appropriate one for this time and place."

"He means it sort of stuck," said Jack with a wink.

"I still don't understand," said Ianto.

"This _is_ Frosty the Snowman, Ianto," said Jack. "The original. He inspired the song. The American branch of UNIT found the Animator running around a downtown square after a group of kids pulled the hat out of a rubbish bin and placed it on their snowman. I was sent over to appropriate the technology."

"For Torchwood," murmured Ianto.

"For Torchwood." Jack grinned and pulled Ianto close once again. "So what do you think?"

Ianto shook his head in wonder. "I'm thinking you might just have Father Christmas hidden away in the Hub somewhere."

"Nope," said Jack. "He didn't like being tied up."

"That's disgusting," said Ianto. Frost did not respond, but glanced down and tried walking some more. He stopped and sighed.

"Jack, I need real boots."

"I couldn't find any," started Jack.

"I have some," said Ianto. For some reason, he wanted to see the snowman laugh and play; it was part of the story, after all. Jack nodded and motioned toward the door, so Ianto hurried toward the tourist office. In the back room he dug out the wellies he kept on hand for those rare occasions he remembered they were there to be used.

"Here you go, sir," he said, holding them out. "Although I'm not sure how this works."

"I'll have to turn you off for a minute," said Jack, sounding apologetic.

"Go ahead, Jack," said Frost. "I'll be fine."

Ianto's watched as Jack toyed with his wrist strap and the snowman stilled. He took the boots from Ianto and worked them into the bottom snowball, digging out a place for them before stepping back.

"Let's try this again," he murmured. He touched his wrist strap, and the snowman came back to life right before Ianto's eyes.

"Happy New Year!" he exclaimed this time, and Ianto couldn't help it: he laughed out loud at the sheer wonder of it all.

"Welcome back," said Jack. "We found some better boots." Frost glanced down and smiled, then began to move them, much more fluidly than earlier.

"This is amazing," Ianto murmured to Jack, and to his surprise, Jack took his hand and squeezed it.

"I'm glad you like it," Jack whispered.

Frost was watching them, and though his eyes were nothing more than two black dots in sea of snow, Ianto had the distinct impression that they were sparkling with amusement.

"More than just a co-worker, Jack?"

"Yep," said Jack, pulling Ianto close. "So do your thing, I woke him up to come down here and meet you."

"Jack," said Ianto. "He's not here to perform for us-"

"Actually, that is a large part of my programming," said Frost. "Particularly with this form. Come, we can frolic and play the Eskimo way." He held out a stick hand, and Ianto laughed again.

"Wrong song," he said. "And as much as I would love to, I know someone who would like it even better. Someone _I'd_ like you to meet, if it's not too much trouble."

Frost nodded, but Jack frowned. "Ianto, this isn't for the public, you know. It took UNIT a long time to clean up in New York."

Ianto couldn't help but roll his eyes. "Of course I know that, Jack. And as much as I would love to show my niece and nephew, I had someone else in mind." He turned to Frost. "Would you mind talking to her? If it's not too much trouble."

"Jack?" asked Frost, obviously seeking permission.

"I think I'm figuring it out. Sounds good to me." He stepped toward Ianto and kissed him firmly. "You're a good man," he murmured.

"So are you," Ianto murmured back. "Thank you for sharing this."

"Some Christmas stories really are magical," said Jack. "I didn't want you to forget that."

"Because of what I said to Gwen about Rudolph?"

"Because what we do is difficult, and I know it's hard not to get cynical. Hard to keep fighting, keep believing."

Ianto glanced at the snowman, walking and talking just as song proclaimed, and smiled. "I still believe, Jack."

"Good," said Jack. "Then let's spread the joy. You frolic and play while I call her and grab some Retcon just in case someone sees our friend."

Ianto cocked an eyebrow. "I thought we were saving the frolic and play for afterward."

Jack wagged his eyebrows. "Oh, you can count on it. Hot chocolate and breakfast in bed." He crossed his fingers over his heart. "I keep my promises."

"Let me make the call, she won't argue as much if I call her in the middle of the night. And the sooner we do this, the sooner we'll be alone so you can keep that promise."

Jack offered one of his trademark salutes and hurried into the office. Ianto watched him fondly before pulling out his phone and turning back to Frost.

"You haven't met Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, by any chance, have you?"

* * *

><p>Two hours later Jack and Ianto stumbled back into the Hub, chilled to the bone but warm inside. Ianto was thrilled with the effect Frost had had on Gwen. At first, Rhys had been furious when Ianto had called to have Gwen meet them at the tourist office. When he had invited her husband along, assuring them both that they were not going on a Weevil hunt, Rhys had grumbled about snow and sleep and bloody Torchwood, Gwen clearly agreeing yet still trying to calm him in the background.<p>

When the couple had stepped into the sheltered area on the boardwalk and seen Frost talking animatedly with Jack and Ianto about his last winter in Cardiff, they had both stopped dead in their tracks. The look of sheer wonder on Gwen's face had been one Ianto would remember for a long time. Strangely enough, Jack had quietly moved away to the edge of the boardwalk, giving the lead to Ianto while he kept watch. Gwen and Rhys forgot he was even there, they were so entranced by Frost.

Gwen had been speechless for a moment, but found her voice soon enough, quickly overwhelming both Ianto and Frost with excited questions before she had laughed and danced and even had a quick snowball fight with the snowman. At which point Jack finally stepped in to tell them it was time to clean up before any early morning workers or runners happened upon them. Jack had some Retcon from the Hub, but Ianto would have hated to use it in such a magical situation.

So they had all said their goodbyes, and Jack had de-animated Frost, leaving the picture perfect snowman intact on the boardwalk for others to enjoy. Ianto had grabbed his boots and Jack his scarf, and they had walked Gwen and Rhys back to their car. Gwen had whispered her thanks to Ianto, hugging him fiercely and kissing him on the cheek before Jack had shooed her home and told her to come in at lunch.

Ianto returned to the Hub with Jack, listening contentedly as Jack told him about the first time he had met Frost. He thought about the remarkable few hours he had just experienced; he had not only met a talking snowman, but Jack had been the one to share it with him. Jack had given him a rare gift: a glimpse at his past, a peek at the future, and something to believe in. It was one of the most thoughtful things anyone had done for him, let alone Jack, and it made Ianto feel all kinds of things he wasn't sure he should be feeling about their unusual relationship.

Tossing his coat on the sofa and setting the top hat down on Ianto's desk, Jack turned and helped Ianto out of his coat before pulling him into a brief but warm and leisurely kiss.

"Did you like it?" he asked softly, arms around Ianto's waist.

"It was incredible," Ianto replied, punctuating it with another kiss.

"So are you," Jack murmured, nuzzling at his neck. Ianto pulled away to look Jack in the eyes.

"I mean it, Jack. I can't think of anything as amazing as what you did tonight. Thank you for sharing."

Jack was practically glowing with the praise, yet there was also such a genuine fondness in his eyes that Ianto found it hard to hold his gaze. He swallowed and gazed back at Jack until the other man smiled and nodded in silent understanding. Of what, neither of them would probably say.

"You're welcome," Jack said. "You deserved it. You deserve something incredible and amazing. You know that, right?"

Ianto glanced away. "So do you."

"I have you," Jack whispered, and Ianto inhaled sharply at the unsaid meaning behind Jack's words.

"Yes, you do," he whispered back, and they kissed until it started to get a bit messy, and Jack pulled away this time, slightly breathless.

"I do believe I promised you hot chocolate and breakfast in bed," he said. Ianto cocked an eyebrow.

"That wasn't all you promised," he pointed out.

"Whatever else could there be?" asked Jack over his shoulder as he headed toward the small kitchen. Ianto followed curiously and leaned against the wall, watching as Jack began to prepare their hot chocolate.

"Something you're quite good at," Ianto said, enjoying the playful banter after the intense exchange they'd shared moments earlier.

"That's right!" Jack mock exclaimed, snapping his fingers. "Something we're _both_ good at."

Ianto stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Jack, letting his chin rest against Jack's shoulder. "So how about hot chocolate, sex, and breakfast out after a few hours of sleep?"

Jack turned around and pulled him close. "I promised you breakfast in bed."

"We don't have anything here at the Hub," Ianto replied. "So we can go to that cafe, the one with the amazing pastries."

Jack grinned and moved toward a cabinet. "You mean these pastries?" He pulled out a box of muffins and scones and Welsh cakes. Ianto gaped at him.

"When did you get those?"

"Right after lunch," Jack laughed, setting the box down. "When it looked like it was definitely going to snow tonight."

"But what…you mean…how did you know?" Ianto was even more astounded now, and almost wondered if he should be worried about Jack being possessed. That Jack had shown such foresight in planning something so considerate both amazed and touched Ianto more than he could say.

"I know you, Ianto Jones," Jack replied, still playful but with a hint of seriousness. "I know they're your favorite. And I knew you'd hate having to get up in the middle of the night, so I had them ready as a sort of bargaining chip. So, was it worth getting up at two in the morning or would you rather be back in your bed, all alone, with no hot chocolate, no sex, and no breakfast in bed?" He began to mix two mugs of hot chocolate, grinning as he stirred.

Ianto was overwhelmed and speechless. Silently he stepped to Jack's side and stilled his hands, setting the spoon down and pulling Jack toward him instead. He kissed Jack, soft and gentle even though his body was demanding something entirely different, then took Jack's hands in his own and led him towards the office.

"What about the hot chocolate?" asked Jack. Ianto just shook his head, still overwhelmed by Jack's incredible insight and thoughtfulness. He dimmed the lights in the Hub, and then took Jack into his office, where a single lamp on the desk lit the area. Moving toward the computer, Ianto quickly brought up some music, starting a soft and slow holiday song. Jack's eyes followed him, lips turned up in a gentle smile that was so rare it sometimes made Ianto's heart ache, that Jack didn't share it more often. He held out his hand, and Jack stepped forward, once again letting Ianto take the lead, even though Ianto had never led a dance with him before. Yet so much about that night was new, it felt comfortable. Natural. Almost normal.

They swayed in time to the strains of Nat King Cole, slow steps turning them in circles around the darkened office. It was almost five in the morning and Ianto was exhausted, but his mind was racing, and all he could think of was showing the man in his arms how much he appreciated the gift he had been given that night, how touched he was by Jack's unexpected and attentive gesture.

And how much he truly cared.

A languid kiss, another dance, and as the song finished, Ianto took Jack's hand and led him toward the room below, all thoughts of snowmen and chestnuts gone from his mind, his thoughts on one thing only.

"Time for me to make it worth it?" Jack murmured.

"You already have," Ianto murmured back, earning that secret smile once more. He tucked it away with the other memories of that night, in that part of his heart that was for Jack, the part that really did believe in the magic of Christmas.

* * *

><p><span>Author's Note:<span>

There, have I restored your faith after what Ianto did to Rudolph? I must say, when I started this, I had no idea the opening banter would veer into such sentimental fluff. But that does tend to happen with these two, doesn't it? Fluff or angst. I hope you enjoyed one of their more romantic moments. I had planned on writing two more short stories for the holiday season, but given that the New Year has come and gone, I really doubt I'll get to them. I have at least half a dozen other stories started, so it may be time to get back to those. Thank you for reading, and Happy New Year!


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